


Miscommunication

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Sam Campbell AU [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Professor Sam, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader and Professor Campbell see each other after their “one night stand.” Part two of my Professor Campbell series, a spin-off of my Professor Winchester series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miscommunication

It had been three days since your ‘tumble in the hay’ - Charlie’s words, not yours - with Sam. You hadn’t heard from him or seen him in all that time. Of course, you were pretty sure he didn’t have your phone number, or if he even knew your last name.

“Quit defending him, Y/N,” Charlie sighed. “Even if he doesn’t have your phone number, he knows where you work and where you live. He could have stopped by, said hello, brought flowers or something.”

“Charlie -” you argued. Or tried to anyway.

“No,” she interrupted. “Don’t let him off the hook. That’s what you did with Michael all the time and look where that got you. I agree, Professor Campbell seems like a nice guy -”

“Professor Campbell?” you laughed.

“Sorry,” she grinned. “ _Sam_ seems like a nice guy, but you need to face facts. He just broke up with his girlfriend - scratch that, fiancee - and you were a nice distraction from the heartache. If you want to be more than a distraction, you’re going to have to go talk to him. Look, I had him freshman year, I know where his classroom is, you could go over there, say hi, whatever.”

You were shaking your head before Charlie had finished speaking. “No, I’m not doing that. It seems so...desperate. I’ll just chalk it up to experience and count myself lucky that I got the chance to have sex that great once in my lifetime.”

Charlie’s laughter washed over you as she walked away, headed for the group of students that had just filed through the door. You shook your head and set back to work restocking the liquor under the bar, your mind constantly drifting back to your night with Sam.

It was a slow night, slower than usual, so you sent Charlie home early. You were wiping down the bar and keeping an eye on the four guys in the back playing pool when the front door opened. You turned to see Sam striding purposefully toward you. He slid onto the bar stool directly in front of you, an almost shy smile on his face. Which was ironic considering the things the two of you had done.

“Hi,” he said, his smile widening noticeably as you made eye contact.

“Hi,” you answered, the word more of a question than a greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come in and say hello -” he murmured.

“Well, you said it, so you’re free to go,” you snapped. God, was that actually you biting off his head? You must have been more hurt by what happened than you’d thought. You took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry, but I think it would be best if you found a different bar to hang out in, you know, to avoid any weirdness between us after what happened. It’s for the best.” You picked up the rag you’d been using on the counter and walked away, refusing to look back. It was better that way. You heard the scrape of the stool moving and the heavy front door slamming closed before you reached the end of the bar.

* * *

You pushed through the double doors of the multi-story building, stopping to read the directory on the wall to your right. You checked the room number, then sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You hurried down the hall, shouldering aside harried college students. You stopped in front of the room the directory had indicated, but all of the lights were off and it was quiet.

Sighing in frustration, you turned in nearly a complete circle, before bumping into yet another person. You mumbled an apology and turned back toward the stairs.

“Excuse me, are you looking for Professor Campbell?” a petite blonde with big brown eyes asked, her hand on your elbow. “I mean, I saw you standing in front of his classroom, so I figured -” She cut herself off, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you answered. “You don’t happen to know where he is, do you?”

“I do,” she smiled. She pointed down the hallway going the opposite direction of the stairs. “Down that way, last door on your left.”

“Thanks, um…” you paused, not sure who you were talking to.

“Jo,” she smiled. “And that’s his office, in case you were wondering.” She slipped into the crowd and disappeared.

You ran your fingers through your hair, suddenly feeling unsure of yourself. You’d come down here as soon as you’d found the note under your loveseat, cursing yourself for being an idiot the entire way over. You pulled the note from your pocket, unfolding it and reading it again.

_Thanks for an amazing night. Call me. I’d love to take you out for an actual date some time. - Sam_

His phone number was scribbled at the bottom, along with a goofy little smiley face. You just hoped Sam would accept your apology, that he would believe you when you told him about the note falling off the table. You knew you’d screwed up and you didn’t expect anything, you just wanted a chance to apologize.

You slipped your hand back into your pocket and pulled out the other thing you had found under your loveseat. A gold and diamond engagement ring. You’d never seen it before, but you were assuming it had to be Sam’s, probably the ring he’d given to his former fiancee. It must have fallen out of his pocket. There was no way in hell it had belonged to your ex, Michael, he’d never have bought you something like that.

You reached the end of the hallway, the ebb and flow of students completely diminished, their voices just a quiet hum of sound. You knocked on the door, opening it just a couple of inches when you heard Sam shout ‘come in.’

“Y/N,” he muttered, obviously surprised. He yanked off his glasses and dropped them to the desk as he rose to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

Your mouth opened and it was like a floodgate. “I’m so sorry, Sam! I found your note last night when I was cleaning and I feel like a complete jerk about the way I acted at the bar the other day. I thought you just wanted an easy lay and that was me and that you’d never talk to me again. Then I read this and it was so sweet and nice and -” You couldn’t stop talking, your mouth was just running nonstop. “I totally understand if you hate me, shit I’d hate me. But I wanted to apologize, and return this.” You set the ring you’d found on the floor on the edge of his desk. “I’m sure it’s yours, and you probably didn’t even know that you’d lost it and it looks expensive. So, listen, I’m sorry again for how I acted the other night.”

You turned and lunged for the door. You almost had it open when a warm hand closed over your upper arm, gently pulling you backward.

“Wait!” he demanded. “Where are you going?” Sam pushed the door closed, then he turned you around to look at him.

Apparently, you were out of things to say. You shrugged and stared at the really interesting clump of mud on the toe of your shoe.

Sam smiled, dropped his hand from the door, let his hand drift down your arm and laced his fingers with yours. He tugged you forward until you were just a few inches away from him. He leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth. He pulled away, but didn’t release his hold on your hand.

“I really am sorry,” you murmured.

“Me too,” Sam said. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, then he used two of the fingers of his free hand to loosen his tie and open the top button of his shirt.

“What are you sorry for?” you asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t done anything except leave you a really sweet note after a night of incredible sex.

“Um, not putting a paperweight on the note,” he laughed. “Not waking you up and telling you goodbye instead of leaving a note. Not staying until morning. All of the above.” He picked the ring up off of his desk, holding it in his palm as if he was testing the weight of it. “And I really regret not putting this in a box in the back of a drawer somewhere.” His grip on your hand tightened and his face changed, a sadness seeming to fall over him, but one he didn’t seem to know was there.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you whispered.

He seemed to shake himself free of what had come over him; he tossed the ring into a small glass candy dish on his desk and turned his attention back to you. “Don’t be. It’s over and done with.” He took a deep breath and a smile spread across his face. “So, what do you say?” he inquired.

“About what?” you asked, confused.

“That date?” he grinned.

“I’d love to,” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

He cupped the back of your head, holding you to him, taking the kiss from a slight peck on the lips to something deeper, more personal. You put your hands on his chest, intending to push him away, maybe tease him about the awkwardness of making out in his office, but his tongue was brushing across your lips, gently pushing into your mouth and you lost all sense of propriety. You took hold of the lapels of his dowdy blue jacket and pushed yourself into the kiss, hungry for more.

He walked you backward, leaning you against the door, his thigh pushing between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your head. He followed your lead, the kisses moving at the pace you set, soft and easy.

Being with Sam made you forget all of your problems, made you forget everything but him. And it was really, really good. You wanted more, not just the kissing or the sex, but more of him. You wanted to get to know him better, get to know more about him than how good he was in bed, or what kind of liquor he preferred. You wanted that, wanted that perfect, easy relationship you hadn’t had with Michael and you could imagine having it with Sam.

Sam’s huge hands were roaming over your body, sliding under the edge of your coat, a chill racing through you at his touch, making you shiver. He dropped his head to your neck, kissing the line of your throat. You tipped your head to the side, giving him better access, quietly humming with pleasure. Encouraged by the sounds you were making, he moved his hands up your body until he was cupping your breasts, kneading them gently. Your back arched and you wanted nothing more than to get both of you out of your clothes.

Sam must have had the same idea, because he was pushing your coat down your arms and shoving your sweater up and over your head. You heard the lock on the door slide into place as it hit the floor, followed almost immediately by Sam’s jacket. You maneuvered your hand between your bodies, grasping him through the dark blue dress pants he was wearing, moaning as you realized just how turned on his was, his cock already half hard. You hurried to release him, wanting to feel the heavy weight of him in your hands.

You didn’t even realize your skirt was up around your waist until he was pushing your panties to the side and running his fingers through the dampness pooling rapidly between your legs.

“God, Y/N, you want me as much as I want you,” he murmured in your ear. He pushed a finger inside you, nearly making you come as he pressed the tiny nub of nerves and brushed his thumb over your clit. Your head fell back against the door as the sensations pulsed through you, obscene moans coming from your mouth.

Sam’s mouth covered yours, pulling you into a long, tender kiss as he slowly fucked you with his fingers, one arm around your waist, lifting you slightly before pushing two, then three fingers inside you and gently lowering you onto them, drawing it out, opening you up, swallowing your moans of pleasure as he caressed your inner walls.

“Jesus, Sam, I want you inside me,” you gasped. You were nearly crazy with desire, grinding down on his fingers, but it wasn’t enough. Only he would be enough.

He stepped back and turned around, taking you with him as he walked several steps across the room, his arm still around your waist, his fingers still inside you, constantly moving. He set you on the edge of his desk, shoving things out of the way, the quiet sounds of fluttering papers and things hitting the carpet adding to the moans already filling the room.  

You pushed at the clothes still covering Sam, wanting it out of your way. He helped, shoving his pants and boxers down just past his hips. He pulled a condom from one of the desk drawers, hurriedly opening it and sliding it on. You opened your legs and guided him, gasping as he gently pushed into you, his hands on your ass, lifting you to meet him, burying himself balls deep inside you.

You leaned back, grabbed the edge of the desk with both hands and wrapped your legs around Sam’s waist. He pumped into you with short, tight, controlled thrusts, his cock brushing over your sweet spot with every push and pull. He shifted positions, one hand now braced on the desk beside you, the other splayed across your back, lifting you to meet his thrusts as if you weighed nothing.

You were moaning as you chased your orgasm, a high keening sound that you couldn’t hold back. Sam leaned over, exhaling a quiet shushing sound against your cheek before catching your lips in his, silencing you with a kiss.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, the feelings rushing through you were too strong, too overwhelming. You let go, biting down on Sam’s lower lip as you came, your hips rising off the desk to meet his, his cock deep inside you.

Sam rocked into you several more times, his eyes squeezed shut, a blissed out look on his face when he finally came with a quiet groan. He held you close, still kissing you, tender kisses that made your skin tingle.

Eventually, he helped you off the desk, the two of you cleaning yourselves up as best as you could. When you finally stood side by side, surveying the mess of papers on the floor, you couldn’t help but laugh.

Sam smiled down at you. “Oops,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’ll help you clean it up,” you giggled.

“Thanks,” he replied. “Look, I really do want to take you out on a real date, Y/N. I don’t want you to think that I’m just, you know…” He gestured vaguely at the mess in the room.

“In it for the sex?” you asked.

A pained expression crossed Sam’s face and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Listen, I’m not really a one night stand kind of guy -”

“Technically, it’s two now,” you interrupted.

Irritation flitted across his face, his mouth tightening slightly, two dimples now prominent on his cheeks. How had you never noticed those before?

“Sorry,” you mumbled, forcing yourself to stop your mouth from running.

“What I’m trying to say, is, I don’t want to be in this for just the sex,” Sam said. “Despite how much I’m enjoying it.” He smiled playfully. “So let me take you out, get to know more about you. The rest, well, that obviously comes naturally to us, so we won’t worry about that. Give me a chance to get to know you and you get the same chance with me. Okay?”

You nodded. There was no way you could resist the adorable, earnest face he was making anyway. The two of you quickly straightened up the mess you’d made of his desk and the papers scattered across the floor. Once his office was somewhat back in order, you scribbled your number on a post-it note and stuck it in the middle of his desk.

“Call me for that date,” you smiled. “Soon.”

“Very soon,” Sam promised. “Tonight.” He pulled you in for a lingering kiss, a kiss interrupted far too soon by a ringing phone.

He released you, so you grabbed your coat from the floor and pulled it on. You glanced at your watch as you yanked open the door, already counting down the minutes until he called you. You gave him one last look before you left, wiggling your fingers in a tiny wave.

“Professor Campbell,” Sam answered, returning the wave, though his attention was quickly drawn to the person on the phone. You could hear him as the door closed behind you. “Dean? Hey, whoa, whoa, slow down! What’s wrong?”


End file.
